


Les Misérables Ficlet Collection

by drcalvin



Series: Drabbles and ficlets [5]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, Les Misérables - All Media Types, One Piece
Genre: Angst, Comedy, Crossover, Ficlet Collection, Multi, Short Fics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-08
Updated: 2013-12-30
Packaged: 2017-12-18 04:06:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/875427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drcalvin/pseuds/drcalvin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Small mini-fics, usually written as responses to Tumblr prompts. Beware falling crossovers!</p><p>1) Les Miz x One Piece Fusion | M Madeleine has Devil Fruit powers.<br/>2) Hetalia x Les Miz Fusion | France & Enjolras<br/>3) Les Miz | Toussaint, Marius and implied Valvert. Comedy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Valjean or Javert or both with a Devil Fruit power

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vejiicakes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vejiicakes/gifts).



That Monsieur le maire was a man of extraordinary gifts surprised no one, least of all the inspector recently arrived to the island of Montreuil. However, where the islanders admired their mayor's provess, his considerations regarding the origin of many of the skills, in particular his outstanding physical strength, had a far darker cast – for he remembered well a convict of such strength and agility, that he had once almost swum away from a Marine ship.

Thus, when the mayor saved an unfortunate old fisherman, caught beneath his own boat when he'd tried to save it from the hungry waves, the Inspector's eyes filled with suspicion instead of awe. It was a suspicion which quickly turned to confusion, as the exhausted mayor stumbled and fell off the pier into the still rough waters – where he sank immediately like a stone, with the typical helpless paralysis of those affected by the Sea Devil’s curse.

While none had dared brave the slippery pier for a poor fisherman caught under his heavy boat, the mayor's life was a different business. Two young men grabbed a line between them and dove quickly for the valued mayor; they found him, and pulled him to safety. His curse now revealed, he showed the curious citizenry what talent he had earned from that devilish bargain, and all who witnessed were stunned at its worth; cursed or not, the mayor's keen nose for business had clearly left him the winner in this matter too. For from his hand, into the waiting palms of the two boys, dropped silver; not coins, not dust, but the pure metal, cool and created from nothing but the power of his talent. The Silver Fruit, the citizens whispered, one of the three Noble Logias; and it was their mayor who possessed it!

As the people dispersed, the inspector approached the weary mayor. Under the guise of offering him assistance he took his elbow and led him away, slowly beginning to voice an apology which would change both their lives in ways neither could yet perceive. 

_[For people who don’t know One Piece; If you eat a Devil’s Fruit, you get a unique talent but can never swim again. In Valjean’s case, he can create and control the element of silver. And because Valjean could swim back in prison and the Bishop gave him the Silver-Silver Fruit blah blah Javert is confused and so on and so fort and somehow Arras]_


	2. France & Enjolras & Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> France, Enjolras and blood. Originally a three-sentence fic for anon.

He doesn’t look like Jeanne (she was never as pretty, his peasant daughter with sun-flaked skin and knobbly worker’s hands). His voice didn’t carry as far and wide as that of his predecessors (oh, yes, they had called, his fiery young rebels, and the people had come and the Republic had been baptized in blood).

When they warn him of the blood spilled on the street, the two soldiers on guard, he almost laughs them off – refrains only out of respect for the dead – what do they know, silly soldier boys! These meager puddles, these tiny flecks that barely stain his boots... If only they knew; they should have been there, to see and compared this tricke to the streams his cruel Madame G. had let loose upon Paris. 

Only, only they too are young and no; perhaps, nobody should have been there at that time. As he should not be here at this time, to watch the ashes of this littles spark so swiftly quenched. 

And yet – this youth so frail, this flower crushed too soon – though his words were silenced before they could light the fire, though his friends lie broken in the gutters and all their struggle seems in vain… There is in him something that draws his nation close and when France slips past the soldiers, climbs that broken stair, lets himself down over the edge of the window and hangs precariously by one hand; when he gently, gently caresses that cooling skin and knows that yet another dreamer was broken in his name; then there is only one thing to say, to whisper to the memory of this shining soul. He is no sweet lady Patria and can only hope that it will be enough: “Thank you.”


	3. The Mystery of the Broken Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt "Valvert + cracky explanation to why they've broken a bed".

"Toussaint! My dear Madame Toussaint, what has happened!" Marius had called out when he ran upstairs to find M Valjean’s housekeeper peering in through his father-in-law’s bedroom door. 

The old woman had looked exceedingly agitated, her face red and shoulders shaking, as if from a terrible shock. Already having felt a certain level of discomfort for having having sent the poor thing from her place, Marius had become only more crippled by gratitude when the entire Madeleine - Valjean affair had been revealed to him. In truth, his and Cosette’s mad race to reach her father had only had a successful outcome due to the loyalty and diligence of Valjean’s old servant; the doctor had been firm in his verdict regarding that.

Had Toussaint not insisted on spooning broth into the life-weary man, Jean Valjean would most likely not have survived to reconcile with his daughter. And Marius Pontmercy would have caused the death of one of the finest men he had ever met, as well as the savior of his own life. Was it any wonder that those who saw them some times did not quite understand who was the servant and who was the master of the household?

"It is nothing, Monsieur Pontmercy," Toussaint finally managed to stammer forth..

In her obviously confused and upset state, she managed to stand just in his way when he tried to enter the room, and Marius found himself tangled in a complicated dance consisting mostly of side-steps and apologetic smiles.

"Pardon. I would - Oh, do excuse me. If I might; I heard a terrible crash," he said worriedly. "What has ha - oh, please, I need to see if I can assist M Fauchelevent in any way!"

"No!" the old woman said with a for her rare sternness, before she continued in a calmer tone. "M Pontmercy, M Javert arrived just before me and has already gone to M Fauchelevent’s assistance. We should only be in the way."

"But - dear Lord above!" Having finally gotten a clear view of the room, Marius could not stop the rude exclamation. The bed was obviously broken in two, sagging as if someone had snapped the bed frame. "What has happened? Where is M Fauchelevent!"

"With M Javert," Toussaint said, and patted his hand. The good woman was obviously trying to sooth him, despite the horrible shock of whatever had happened still sending little trembles through her; Marius only hoped the odd chortling sounds she kept emitting were not in reality hidden sobs. Perhaps he should bring Cosette?

"There will be no need for any of that," Toussaint said and pulled him away. "Monsieur Fauchelevent is in good hands. I too was terrified by the horrible ruckus, fearing that it was robbers and villains having come to cut our throats in secrecy."

"But what happened?" Marius asked and tried to look back over his shoulder. "That bed looked absolutely demolished."

Toussaint hid her face, and Marius almost stumbled upon his own feet. Had he traumatized her further? Had something too terribly to speak of happened to Valjean? Should he not - 

"Monsieur…" Toussaint wiped her eyes, and took a deep breath. "Monsieur Fauchelevent broke the bed."

"What? How!"

"He lifted it," she said after a moment. "Yes. He lifted it, too forcefully, and the bed broke."

Marius tried to imagine the events. The bed had been a sturdy thing of oak… on the other hand, Jean Valjean had been famed for his prodigious strength, and had not Inspector Javert himself recently alluded to him lifting a loaded cart in his younger days? "But why?"

"I believe Monsieur Javert dropped a cuff-link beneath the bed," Toussaint replied quickly. Then, she smiled and patted Marius on the hand, as if he had been the one to suffer a terrible shock.

"Please do not worry, M Pontmercy. I am certain M Javert will allow M Fauchelevent to room with him in the guest room tonight, and tomorrow, all will be cleared."

"I suppose…" Marius said, having the inexplicable feeling of something vital having passed him by.


End file.
